


Without Hesitation

by OwenToDawn



Series: The People Who Love Song Minho Club [1]
Category: Block B, FANXY CHILD (Band), Winner (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Minho gets with every character tagged, One Night Stands, Open Relationships, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Polyamory Negotiations, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwenToDawn/pseuds/OwenToDawn
Summary: Minho likes feeling close to people. Jiho likes that Minho likes feeling close to people.
Relationships: Kim Jiwon | Bobby/Song Minho |Mino/Woo Jiho | Zico, Shin Hyoseob | Crush/Woo Jiho | Zico/Song Minho | Mino, Song Minho | Mino/Woo Jiho | Zico, Song Minho | Mino/Woo Jiho | Zico/Park Jimin/Kim Namjoon | RM
Series: The People Who Love Song Minho Club [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616827
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	Without Hesitation

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in the span of few days - I apologize if it's not as clean as it should be. It's structured so that the tense changes from past to present and I denote that with multiple spaces to indicate the switch without interrupting the flow too much. 
> 
> Minho sleeps with every single character tagged but I just tagged the more important pairings 
> 
> This was actually going to include the entirety of Fanxy Child and Ravi from VIXX but I think I'll just revisit this little AU at a later date haha 
> 
> Title loosely taken from Human by Zico

People always assume Jiho was his first, but Minho usually just smiles and shakes his head. He doesn’t say who was his first when people ask. That’s not his secret to tell, and he keeps the secrets of everyone who gets to know him like that close to his chest. If he didn’t, none of this would work. But it’s Yoon asking this time, and everyone knows he tells Yoon everything. He’d asked if he could tell Yoon before he’d even ended up here.

The truth is, it was Jihoon. They lived together in a cramped studio apartment, chasing their dreams in the underground rap scene as best they could as children pretending to be something bigger than they were. They were all overcompensation and puffed out egos in public. In private, together, the insecurity mellowed out into something softer. They leaned on each other on sleepless nights while they ate, cried from loneliness and fear on each other’s shoulders, and on more than one occasion, shared a stressed out handy under the covers in the dark.

It wasn’t worth talking about. Part of that was because they were young and stupid and had no idea how to talk about it to begin with, but more than that, it was just an unspoken agreement to take care of each other in every way possible as they supported each other in their dreams. They didn’t kiss. They didn’t even make eye contact. But that didn’t mean it was weird either. Jihoon was a steady rock during a turbulent time.

Then came Jiho and the formation of Block B. And Minho split himself in two.

If Jihoon was the rock of his life, Jiho was the ocean crashing against it. Minho let himself be dragged into the undertow, not even trying to stop himself from falling head over heels in love with everything about the man just a year older than him who took command so easily. He worked hard for his approval, clung to him like a burr to fabric, a wayward stray that Jiho didn’t bother to knock off.

And it infuriated Jihoon. Minho tried to mediate their disagreements, but the same passion that drove Jiho’s song-writing and dancing turned easily into rage and anger, and given his deep crush, more often than not he found himself backing Jiho instead of Jihoon. It eventually came to a head with Jiho kicking Jihoon out. That hurt more than anything because in a way, Minho supposed it was his own fault. If he hadn’t been so eager to jump at Jiho’s every command, perhaps Jihoon wouldn’t have felt as if he were losing his best friend and become antagonistic in response. The only way that he could see to make it right was to follow Jihoon out of the company.

They stayed at Minho’s parent’s house, crammed into a shared bed and clinging to each other. Minho cried. Jihoon held him.

And the next morning, Minho slunk back to the company and begged for Jiho to let them both back and give them both one more chance to make it work. He’d been shocked Jiho agreed.

“I guess that makes sense,” Yoon says. “You’ve known Jihoon the longest, went through puberty together, went through everything at the start of your careers together. Is he…”

Minho laughs as Yoon gestures at their naked forms entwined together under Minho’s bedsheets. “No we don’t fuck anymore. Sometimes he kisses me when he hugs me goodbye but it’s not…I don’t know. It’s just friends.”

“So then when did Jiho enter the picture as more than a friend?”

Minho wrinkles his nose. It’s hard to remember that time without the memories of what happened right after souring it.

Because Jiho was his first kiss. It had been the night Minho told him his dad wasn’t going to let him sign a contract with them because it didn’t meet his standards. He expected Jiho to rage at him – he’d been prepared for it even. That was why he chose to tell him when they were alone in the studio together going over the tracks they were going to pick for their debut album.

But Jiho didn’t. Instead Jiho stared at him before standing up from his chair and bending down over Minho as he cupped his face and pressed their lips together. Minho was shocked, grief and elation twisting together in a sick mixture that had him crying and tainting the following kisses with the taste of tears. But it hadn’t just been him. Jiho cried too, lips trembling against Minho’s as they crammed themselves into one of the chairs. Even now, thinking about the way Jiho had begged him to stay and confessed his feelings all without saying a word made his chest ache.

Minho eventually pushed him back and with their foreheads pressed together whispered an apology and a goodbye.

And that was the last time he saw him until the MTV Match Up show.

“That’s…I didn’t realize you didn’t speak until then,” Yoon says, hand rubbing at the back of Minho’s neck as Minho shifts closer. 

“Two closeted gay rappers confess their love to each other as one of them leaves the company. We weren’t exactly in a position where we knew how to talk about our feelings,” Minho says. “But after that we started to patch things up.”

"And then…the show.”

The fucking show. The 100-day long grueling show that had nearly broken everyone in both teams in the way it pitted them against each other. It didn’t help that Jiho had insisted they save talking about a potential relationship until he made it through, whatever the result was. But it had been the smarter move. He needed to be able to focus and he couldn’t do that if he was dealing with a brand-new relationship that had to be kept secret.

And then they’d won. And they’d become Winner. And it was the worst and best thing ever to see his friend’s dreams shattered even as his own came true. He’d spent the first weeks of his new relationship with Jiho crying in his bed trying to grapple with a guilt that wouldn’t leave him no matter how many times Bobby and Hanbin told him they weren’t mad. He hadn’t been able to forgive himself around the rest of his teammates. His self-imposed isolation in Jiho’s arms gave him the space he needed to assess the situation with a clear head.

“You deserve to win, finally,” Jiho said as he held Minho who’d woken again in the early morning hours. “You’ve worked so hard, Minho. You deserve this more than anyone I fucking know, okay? You can’t keep burning yourself for the benefit of everyone else.”

Minho let his head rest against Jiho’s chest as he processed the words, mind replaying all the ways Jiho and Jihoon had both been a steadfast foundation for him to keep reaching for his dreams. Jihoon was the rock, Jiho the passion and drive and love. In the end, he’d realized there was nothing but truth in Jiho’s words. He deserved to win. He deserved to be recognized.

He pressed his lips to Jiho’s, unable to articulate the thousands of ways he was grateful. One thing led to another, and before long, Jiho was fumbling for the lamp light, bathing the room in a soft warmth as they helped each other out of their clothes. They pressed tight together, trading kisses and touches, fingers mapping out each other’s bodies, Jiho’s hard muscles from intense work outs and Minho’s too skinny frame from too much work and not enough food.

For a moment, he felt bashful as Jiho sat back on his thighs and took in his whole form. And then Jiho’s eyes met his and he was floored by the intense mixture of love and lust he found there and it was easy to sink back into it. As far as first times go, it was far from bad even with a bit of awkwardness. Jiho had experience that Minho hadn’t had a chance to gain yet and he walked him easily through it all, fingering him open until Minho was clutching at the pillow as tears gathered in his eyes from how good it felt.

Because Jiho had a mouth on him. He didn’t just touch Minho. He praised him, kissing his neck and jaw and lips as he stretched him with tender words of how good Minho was, how he deserved the world, interspersed between them. When he’d actually pushed inside, Minho had cried. He couldn’t help it. He’d always been easy to cry in the first place, but between Jiho’s words and his soft actions and the way he held Minho’s face in his hands as he thrust into him with a sensual and slow roll of his hips, he didn’t have a chance of stopping it.

He fucking loved Jiho, had for years, and wasn’t ever going to stop.

Jiho took care of him, fucking him so gently, like he had all the time in the world to stay right there with him, until they both came. They feel asleep wrapped up tight in each other’s arms. They only regretted how quickly they’d fallen asleep when they woke up the next morning with dried come on both their bellies. Jiho just dragged him to the shower though with a smile and a kiss.

“If you love him so much, why this?” Yoon asks.

"You mean the sleeping with everyone else?” Minho asks, pushing himself up onto his side so he can look down at Yoon as he smiles.

Yoon flushes but nods. “Yeah. Doesn’t it make things…mean less with him?”

“I thought so at first,” Minho says. “I felt so bad because I…well you know about me and Taehyun.”

Nam Taehyun who had a crush the size of the moon and Minho loved the attention, loved slinging an arm around his shoulders and making him blush and cover his face. He wondered if that was what Jiho had felt like when he’d first joined Block B. But Taehyun hadn’t known that Minho was dating Jiho. No one did, only Jihoon. They worked hard on their debut album and one night after practice, Minho laid star-fished out on the dance room floor. The others filtered out and Minho assumed they’d all left and he was finally alone.

And then he’d felt slim, cool fingers touch the inside of his wrist. He’d opened his eyes to see Taehyun staring down at him with an uncertain look in his eyes, a look that had grown too familiar over the years since he’d signed with YG. He hated seeing Taehyun look so unsure of himself when he was so talented. His inner thought process came to a screeching halt when Taehyun leaned down to kiss his cheek.

At first, he thought it was just something friendly. That lasted until Taehyun kissed his lips next. It was a dry kiss, no movement on either of their parts until Taehyun pulled away and stared at him with fear Minho knew he couldn’t justify with his own actions. So he took a breath and covered Taehyun’s hand with one of his own instead.

“I can’t. I’m seeing someone.”

And that had been the truth. It wasn’t an excuse. Minho _did_ want to kiss Taehyun. He wanted to kiss him over and over, wanted to see how deep he could make him blush, wanted to see how he sounded when he was breathless and gasping. But that was wrong because he loved Jiho.

He went to Jiho’s that night, not the dorms. He showed up at four in the morning, wiping tears from his face and Jiho let him in without hesitation. The whole story spilled out of him on the couch as he sat between Jiho and Jihoon in the living room, how at some point the teasing flirting had changed into something he’d actually meant on some level because he was attracted to Taehyun. Jihoon held his hand while Jiho sat ramrod straight next to him.

“But I don’t….I don’t want to date him, I promise I don’t,” Minho said through his tears. “It’s not like that it’s just…”

He trailed off, not sure of how to explain the way he got overwhelmed by how much he loved his friends. It sounded like such a cop out even in his own head. But it was true. He wanted to make Taehyun feel good. He didn’t want to date him. Sex was just an extension of friendship and caring and love.

“Was it like us?” Jihoon asked. “Where…it’s convenient. We felt safe?”

“Sort of,” Minho said. “I’m not romantically into him at all, I don’t even know if I’m really sexually attracted to him, I just want…I wanted to make him feel good.”

Jiho hummed an odd noise and relaxed against Minho, seemingly coming to a conclusion. “That makes sense. You’re like that in bed. You don’t care what you get, as long as you make me happy. Makes me nervous sometimes.”

Minho squeezed Jihoon’s hand tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“No it’s okay. This all…makes sense to some degree,” Jiho said. “You want to please people, nothing wrong with that, but it can be dangerous if you keep putting other people’s needs above your own.”

The words echoed of their first time having sex, and that was when it had clicked in Minho’s head that the thing that made him kind was the thing that could eat him and his loved ones alive if he let it.

“I won’t sleep with him,” Minho said. “I never would have. But it didn’t feel right hiding it from you that I wanted to.”

“What if you did sleep with him?” Jiho asked, finally looking over at him.

“What?” Minho and Jihoon both asked at the same time, staring at Jiho like he’d grown a second head.

“I’m serious,” Jiho said. “If I said you could, would you?”

Minho squirmed under Jiho’s scrutiny, and that was answer enough. “I’m sorry…”

Jiho just sighed and cupped the back of Minho’s head before kissing his forehead with a hard and wet kiss. “Don’t apologize for something I love you for. I love how much you care about people and how deeply you feel for them. We can work with this, if they can.”

“They?” Minho asked.

Jiho raised an eyebrow and given a short laugh. “I doubt Taehyun will be the last.”

And that was how it started. Jiho started texting Taehyun in a group chat with Minho and they all came to an arrangement complete with rules.

  * Jiho had to give permission first
  * Minho always had veto power
  * Taehyun couldn’t ask for a relationship



Simple, but it worked. Minho and Taehyun stole moments together and Minho explored a more service-oriented side of himself. Taehyun wanted Minho to top but he maintained control with demanding hands and words. Fucking him was a work out in his stamina and inevitably ended up with him tired and panting on the bed with a sore dick and his brain fuzzing out into a floating and light-hearted feeling.

Jiho did the research to find out that it was something called subspace and they added some rules to cope with that. Those were easy to follow. Taehyun loved doting on him and the aftercare gave him the excuse to do it more.

“He loved you,” Yoon says.

Minho nods against his neck. “It was my mistake thinking it was a crush.”

Then their first album released and at a celebratory friends-only party, Minho found himself in a bit of a situation with Jinhwan. The situation being their casual and slightly buzzed slow-dancing to some song from a drama show as Jiho watched from two feet away on the couch.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jinhwan murmured against his throat, thumbs rubbing against the dimples of his lower back. Minho shivered at the soft touch and pressed closer. “I’m so happy you got to debut…” His voice cracked and Minho could feel the hot splash of tears against his throat and honestly, the two of them were probably the biggest crybabies out of all the YG trainees because Minho felt like he was going to cry too.

Minho pulled away and pressed a sloppy kiss to his forehead. Jinhwan’s eyes crinkled up from his smile even as tears stained his cheeks. Minho wanted to kiss him for real. He wanted to show Jinhwan how much he meant to him and given the way Jinhwan was looking at him, the feeling was mutual.

He glanced over Jinhwan’s shoulder to look at Jiho. Jiho took a long swallow of his drink and met his gaze with undisguised heat and arousal. Minho wet his lips with a flick of his tongue and slid his hand down to grope Jinhwan’s ass, prompting a soft gasp from him as he ground his hips into Minho’s. Jiho smirked.

“If we do this, it’s casual,” Minho said against Jinhwan’s ear.

“Works for me,” Jinhwan said, lips tickling Minho’s collarbone.

“And my boyfriend gets to watch,” Minho said

Jinhwan pulled back and then followed Minho’s gaze to see Jiho staring at them. “Holy shit.”

“Still good?” Jiho asked.

“Definitely.”

They made their way to a guest bedroom. It was easy to sneak away given the size and noise of the party. Jiho took a seat on the vanity across from the bed while Minho shut and locked the bedroom door before dimming the lights down to set the mood. When he turned back around, he was immediately met with a heated kiss from Jinhwan and dragged further into the room. He could feel Jiho’s eyes on him as he pushed Jinhwan onto the bed. It gave him the confidence to fall to his knees between Jinhwan’s legs and start undoing the button of his pants.

“You really want to?” Jinhwan asked, eyes blown wide.

“Minho always wants to be on his knees for people likes,” Jiho said with a hint of a sneer.

Arousal hit him like a gut punch. Years later, he’d still remember the way humiliation had flooded his system with Jinhwan’s naked admiration as he watched Minho pull his dick out. Jinhwan was smaller but thicker than Jiho and he had to stretch his lips wide to fit him in his mouth. It got messy fast. The wet sound of Minho struggling to fit his cock in his mouth was the background noise to Jinhwan’s soft and gasping praises twisted with Jiho’s derisive remarks to work harder.

And Minho did work hard. He pulled off and tilted his head to the side to press wet kisses along Jinhwan’s cock as he squeezed his balls with one hand. The way Jinhwan whimpered his name made his chest warm.

“Just like that Minho, show him how much you appreciate him,” Jiho said, voice rough with his own arousal.

Minho moaned out his assent and took Jinhwan’s cock back into his throat, tongue slipping along the bottom and then over the tip over and over. It only took two more passes to make Jinhwan come down his throat. Minho hadn’t stopped then though. He was more than content to lick Jinhwan clean as he gasped from over sensitization. It wasn’t until Jiho twisted a hand in his hair and yanked him back that he stopped and let Jinhwan catch his breath.

“You wanna watch what happens next?” Jiho asked.

"Hell yeah,” Jinhwan said with a dazed smile.

So Jiho man-handled Minho up ono the bed but only after stripping him completely naked. He and Jinhwan had both stayed clothed. Minho was grateful Jinhwan had worn athletic pants as he stretched out over him. Jiho pulled a packet of lube from his wallet, undone his fly, slicked his cock up and climbed up on the bed behind him. He fucked Minho like that, driving him into Jinhwan’s arms and praising them both when they kissed.

“Tell him thank you,” Jiho said as he fucked into him again and then rolled his hips in short jabs that had Minho’s eyes rolling back in his head.

Jinhwan cupped his face and kissed the tears on his cheeks away. “So pretty, Minho.”

Jiho pulled out and instead of thrusting back in, he tapped the head of his dick against Minho’s entrance, sending little shocks of pleasure skittering up his spine. “C’mon, say thank you to Jinhwan.”

“Thank you!” Minho gasped. “Thank you, Jinhwan.”

“For what?” Jinhwan asked.

“For-oh god…fuck…” Minho clutched at Jinhwan’s shoulders as Jiho sunk his dick back in, deep, pressing in and just grinding the way Minho loved. “For letting me suck your dick, thank you, thank you, thank-“

He fell then, hard, dissolving into a puddle of tears and pleasure between them and riding the sensations out until he came so hard he blacked out. When he’d come to, it was curled into Jiho’s bigger form as two of Jiho’s fingers lazily fucked in and out of him, like Minho had been whining for it. He probably had.

“Fuck that was…good,” Minho slurred out.

“Yeah it was,” Jiho said with a smile in his voice. “Jinhwan said thanks on his way out. You’re a bit of a slut, you know that?”

“Is that bad?”

Jiho laughed and pulled his fingers out before pushing three back in to prompt a soft whimper from Minho. “No, it’s not.”

“That’s different from what you had with Taehyun,” Yoon says.

“Yeah, it was more casual. It was around then that Taehyun and I started drifting a bit. I think it bothered him,” Minho says, frowning. “If it was just Jiho, he could rationalize it, but once it became anyone I wanted, he realized it wasn’t something he wanted to be a part of.”

“What made him realize it?”

MAMAs, 2014.

BTS had been seated behind them and Minho couldn’t help but sneak glances at them. Jiho had texted him all afternoon through rehearsal about how Namjoon’s flow gave him badly timed boners. His face was nice too. Courting him would be risky though. Taehyun and Jinhwan they’d both known. They were safe. For all they knew, Namjoon was as homophobic as the average idol. During one of his looks, one of the other members caught his gaze. Minho flushed, embarrassed that he’d been caught but unable to look away from the man with round cheeks, pouty lips, and a hard gaze that seemed to see right through him. Jiho could have the rapper. Minho wanted whoever the fuck that was.

Then came the actual performance. He cheered on Block B, because of course he did, but then the man from before flipped his way across the stage and ripped his shirt off to expose a body as well maintained as Taeyang’s with a harsh tattoo carved along his ribs. It didn’t help that he found Minho’s shocked face in the crowd and raised an eyebrow at him. He shifted in his chair and covered his hard on with the tablecloth.

The moment the stage was finished and they went to commercial, Minho pulled out his phone and sent a frantic message to Jiho.

_Mino: You can get Namjoon if I can have the dude who ripped his shirt off_

_Zico: Deal_

Minho settled back into his chair and tried to maintain his cool as BTS took their seats behind them again. His phone buzzed in his hand and he thumbed in his code, surprised to see a message from a number he didn’t recognize.

_Unknown Number: Zico gave me your number. He said you had something to show me._

Which was how Minho found himself in the men’s restroom with the trash can wedged under the handle while Jimin blew him and fucked his fingers against Minho’s prostate so hard his knees shook from pleasure. Jimin’s hair felt soft in his fingers. But no matter how much Minho tugged, Jimin went at his own pace, taking Minho right to the edge before pulling off and smiling at him with an angelic grin as Minho’s dick twitched.

"I don’t have much time, but believe me, I could do this for hours,” Jimin said before sliding his tongue over the tip of Minho’s cock again. “But Zico said not to keep you.”

Minho whimpered out _something_ and Jimin laughed before sucking him back down. Minho had come while biting his own knuckles to muffle the noise and Jimin kissed his slack lips as he jacked himself off. He came on Minho’s stomach and then dropped Minho’s sweater back down to cover the mess. Jimin was softer in mood after coming. His smile lost its harsh edge as he zipped Minho’s pants up for him and fixed his hair with quick and precise plucks of his fingers.

“Zico was right. You go really deep if someone takes charge,” Jimin said.

“Hm?” Minho listed forward and Jimin laughed as he hugged him.

“If I didn’t have my eyes on someone else, I’d almost be jealous of him getting to have you the way he does,” Jimin said as he pet the back of Minho’s head. “You’re so sweet.”

“He was right,” Yoon says. “You are quite sweet.”

Minho makes a noise of protest even though he knows it’s true. “I can’t go another round, don’t get me started.”

Yoon laughs and kisses his forehead before nudging his chin so they can look at each other. “So how did that make Taehyun change his mind?”

Minho sighs and rests his chin on Yoon’s chest. “He asked where I went when we got back to the dorms and I told him and he just…looked at me like I’d broken his heart. I asked him what he thought we were and he said he knew we weren’t anything and we never would be because he’d never be able to handle what I wanted to do.”

Yoon sucks in a tight breath of air, squeezing the back of Minho’s neck. “That’s…rough.”

“He was right though,” Minho says with a one-armed shrug. “What I want, what Jiho and I have, that’s not for everyone. It was doomed not to work with him.”

“I…I suppose so,” Yoon says.

“And then Show Me The Money happened.”

Yoon tenses beneath him and Minho can’t help but squeeze him. None of them liked thinking about how beaten down he’d gotten back then.

Minho knew how nasty the underground rap scene could get, but he still wasn’t prepared for the constant verbal berating and literal biting so fresh from cutting things off with Taehyun and insecurity about the success of their debut. Jiho tried to help as much as he could, but with the cameras on them had to be cautious. For months, Minho couldn’t see him. He stayed in his apartment with the others and only saw Jiho when they were filming. Even the studio provided no privacy, the cameras a constant and hovering presence.

The only comfort Jiho had been able to provide then were texts and a few voice chats but those hadn’t been enough.

And that was how Hoony had entered the picture. By then Taehyun had withdrawn from all of them, so he wasn’t an option, so instead Jiho texted Hoony a screenshot of a list on his phone titled _The Proper Maintenance And Care Of Song Minho_. The list included things like making sure he ate, cuddling him when he came home, and on the night when Black Nut decided to bite at him like a dog, slip into the shower with him with permission to…help in a more intimate way if Minho wanted.

Hoony was good at taking charge. Taehyun and Jimin both had rough edges to them, like man handling and controlling Minho gave them a rush, but Hoony seemed more content to just take care of him. He washed Minho’s shorn hair with long fingers that rubbed along his scalp and then slid down his neck and shoulders. He went over every inch of Minho’s body with a soapy cloth, leaving no part of him uncleaned and untouched, and each movement and caress was done with such care that Minho fell apart, a hand covering his eyes as tears slipped down his face and mixed with the water from the shower.

But Hoony noticed, because well, of course he did. The five of them had shed a lot of tears around each other and it was impossible not to notice it no matter how much they tried to hide it. He wrapped Minho up and held him under the warm spray, kissing his head and cheeks and whispering to him over and over how proud he was to see Minho take all the shit the world threw at him and spit it right back with interest.

And then his hand slipped down along Minho’s hip and he’d asked, in a voice barely heard over the spray-

“Can I? Will you let me?”

And Minho nodded, because he wanted nothing more than to be taken care of in that way. He missed Jiho’s touch, and Hoony wasn’t a replacement. Hoony would never be something like that, he meant to much to him. But in the moment, what he needed more than anything was to be touched, to be loved, to be validated through someone caressing and desiring him.

So Hoony wrapped a warm and wet hand around his cock and stroked him as he brought their lips together. Minho twisted his fingers in Hoony’s hair and clung to him. It was all he had the energy to do, but Hoony didn’t mind doing all the work. He supported Minho’s nearly limp weight, kissed him through each moan and gasp and soft whine for _more, please Hoony, more_. When Minho came, it was with a cracked cry of Hoony’s name a few more tears escaping out of the corners of his eyes.

From there, Hoony, tugged him out of the shower and dried him with as loving and soft of a touch as he cleaned him. They fell asleep curled around each other. Minho felt at ease for the first time in months.

“And that was how Hoony got involved. It was whenever we wanted too, but I mean, you know Hoony,” Minho says. “He didn’t have any issue taking on the extra responsibility of taking care of me the way Jiho wanted to even if he wasn’t around.”

"So spoiled,” Yoon says, voice teasing. When Minho looks at him though, his gaze is soft. “Hoony loves you.”

“I love him too,” Minho says with a smile.

“So it isn’t just what it was at the start right, a way to express affection?” Yoon asks.

Minho hums as he thinks, fingers tracing over the shape of Yoon’s ribs through the thin layer of fat he has now that they’re on a bit of a break. He loves how soft Yoon gets. “It depends on the person. With Jinhwan, with Taehyun, it was like I had all this love and affection for them that it spilled over into a sexual relationship. With Hoony it’s like…we’re best friends and sometimes that bleeds over into making out if we feel lonely or a hand job in the shower when we’re stressed. It’s closer to what I had with Jihoon.”

“And where does Jimin fit in?”

Minho laughs, hand going flat. “Jimin and Namjoon were purely a sexual experience.”

Yoon raises his eyebrows, pupils dilating. “Jimin _and_ Namjoon?”

It was after Show Me The Money had concluded. Namjoon and Jiho had been texting a lot about their respective albums they were working on, and Minho spent a lot of time in Jiho’s studio to avoid the screeching halt that Winner’s career had come to while Taehyun worked things out with YG. It was around that time that he and Jiho started experimenting with the dynamics they’d only flirted with in the past.

Minho had no interest in pain, but he liked Jiho ordering him around. He liked how Jiho had no problem pushing him against a wall and leaving bruises along his collarbone as he jerked Minho off, fast and rough. He liked how sometimes, Jiho put him on the floor beneath the desk and had Minho suck him off while he rambled about how hot it had been to see him blow Jinhwan. He liked how Jiho called him a slut when Minho had almost come himself when Jiho came on his face.

After, Jiho was always good to him. He’d hold Minho close, kiss him, remind him how much he loved him. Every day, Minho fell a little bit more in love with him and the way he could be soft and hard for Minho depending on what he wanted or needed.

One night, Jiho took a break and flopped down onto Minho’s half asleep form and buried his face in Minho’s neck. “Jimin wants to know if we’d be down giving a demonstration.”

“Hm?” Minho asked, too tired for the words to make much sense. “Of what?”

“Sex.”

Minho jerked awake and stared down at him with wide eyes. “Huh?”

Jiho laughed at his expression and kissed his slack-jawed mouth before running his hands through Minho’s hair. “He and Namjoon got together and they’ve been experimenting with the same dynamics as us. Or trying to. Apparently Namjoon wants to see a demonstration first.”

Which is how he found himself clutching at Jiho’s thigh as Jimin pulled his hand away from his throbbing cock for the fourth time in an hour, denying him yet another orgasm while Namjoon watched from where he sat next to Jiho. Jimin sighed and slid one hand down Minho’s spine as his other came up to toy with his hole with teasing touches of his fingers. Minho started to push back but Jiho gave his cheek a light slap to make him go still again, making a soft tsking noise with his tongue.

“Don’t be greedy, let Jimin play,” Jiho said.

“Please…” Minho couldn’t really say anything beyond that, too worked up by the pleasure of Jimin’s fingers sinking into him and setting up a quick rhythm, banging against his prostate hard and making his cock drool pre-come onto the bedsheets.

“How much more can he take?” Namjoon asked, and he sounded breathless like he was the one in Minho’s position.

“I spent a whole afternoon edging him once,” Jiho said. “He cried the last two hours before I finally let him come riding my dick in the studio chair.”

“He must’ve been so sensitive,” Jimin said, kissing his lower back as he rubbed insistently on Minho’s prostate.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna…please, can I come?” Minho begged, pushing himself up as best he could so he could look in Jiho’s eyes.

“I don’t know, Jimin, should we let him?” Jiho asked, glancing away from him.

“Not yet. Namjoon hasn’t gotten a chance to play,” Jimin said. “You want to, baby?”

Minho looked over at Namjoon, heart pounding at the way Namjoon stared at him with undisguised desire. He looked so pretty with pink hair, the hard edges he’d had the first time Minho had seen him softened by the color and the way he seemed so eager to please both him and Jimin.

“Yeah, I want to,” Namjoon said.

So Jiho hauled Minho upright and settled him back in his lap, legs spread on either side of his own so his oversensitive cock was easy for Namjoon to access as Jimin tugged him over to stretch out across the bed between their legs. With a little encouragement from Jimin, Namjoon licked Minho’s cock and then closed his lips around the tip and gave a slow suck as he teased the tip.

Minho _wailed_ , spasming in Jiho’s grip as he finally began to cry in earnest as he struggled not to come. Jimin and Jiho both laughed, the sound cruel and harsh in the best way. Jiho’s lips pressed to his ear, words spilling out.

“Fuck you suffer so well for us, Minho, it’s so fucking hot,” he whispered, breath caressing Minho’s neck and making him shiver and shake. “One of these days I’m gonna keep you worked up all day long just because I can.”

“I can’t, I’m gonna…please!” Minho begged.

Namjoon pulled off at Jimin’s urging and Minho went limp in Jiho’s steady grip as more tears rolled down his face. Jiho tilted his face back and licked at one of the tears, offering a cruel grin at the soft noise Minho made in response before dropping his hand down and jacking Minho’s cock hard and fast a few pumps before releasing him again. Then Namjoon’s mouth was back and the whole cycle began once more.

In the end, Jimin gave him permission to come as Namjoon stroked him and it was like Jinhwan all over again. He came so hard, pleasure washing through him and dragging him under to some space where he couldn’t think, couldn’t process, couldn’t move, and it was fucking delicious. When he finally came back around, he was sprawled on top of Namjoon with the other man’s big hands stroking down his back. Jiho and Jimin were nowhere to be found but he had an idea of where they were given the noise of the shower. 

"Oh, you’re back,” Namjoon said as Minho stirred. “Jiho said you didn’t like coming back without being held.”

"Mmm,” Minho said, nuzzling into Namjoon’s neck. He smelled nice. “Thank you…”

“How do you do it? Let go like that?” Namjoon asked, and his voice sounded so scared and fragile that it made Minho’s chest ache.

“I love Jiho,” Minho said, eyes sliding shut. “I trust him with my life.”

“I don’t know if I trust anyone like that,” Namjoon said.

“You haven’t known Jimin long enough,” Minho said, shaking off the cobwebs of subspace so he could think a little clearer. “I’ve known Jiho since I was a kid, went through hell and back, destroyed our friendship and built it back up from scratch. That’s why I trust him. Love him.”

“Even when you sleep with other people?” Namjoon asked.

Minho huffed and pushed himself up so he could look Namjoon in the eyes. “Sleeping with other people is fun. I like being close to people. But Jiho is always going to be the one I go home to and maybe one day the world will change enough that I can do it publicly.”

“What if that day doesn’t come?” Namjoon asked, and Minho wondered if that was what Namjoon was scared of more than anything.

“Then I still have Jiho,” Minho said.

Understanding seemed to click in Namjoon’s gaze. Content that his job was done, Minho flopped back down and shut his eyes.

“Did you stay in touch with him?” Yoon asks.

“No. I know Jiho does sometimes,” Minho says. “But I never had much interest in either of them outside the physical and after sleeping with them both my curiosity was satisfied.”

“How often do you and Jiho play that hard? Isn’t it…a lot?”

Minho laughs and rolls back onto his back. “It is, but in a good way. Honestly that year was the most we did stuff like that. It’s like we discovered this dark part of ourselves and got addicted to it and it was great. We’ve calmed down a bit since then. We still do it but…it’s rarer.”

“We can skip the part about Taehyun leaving if you want,” Yoon says, turning on his side to look at Minho. “I said I wanted to know about everything but…I already know that part.”

Minho’s good mood sours a bit and he nods. Even if things had somewhat mellowed out between them since then and they could send each other messages without it hurting, it wasn’t a part of his life he really needed to revisit. “I got involved with Bobby around that time, during the album collaboration we did. The three of us spent a lot of time together.”

“I did always wonder who Body was about. Was it Jiho or Bobby?” Yoon asked, lips pouting into his thinking frown.

Jiho. They’d spent months apart with Jiho’s busy schedule and Minho spent most of that time in the studio writing way too many lyrics about how much he missed him. On one particular night, he’d fallen asleep and woke up to Bobby paging through the journal full of the lyrics and he froze out of fear, terrified that his secrets had been spilled out in such a way. Not that he thought Bobby would be disgusted. Bobby was one of his closest friends after all. But still, filthy lyrics about wanting to trace the cut of Jiho’s hips with his tongue probably wasn’t the best way to come out.

“You’ve got it bad,” Bobby said when Minho sat down next to him on the futon. He passed the journal back with his usual friendly smile. “Does he know?”

“We’ve been dating for two years,” Minho said.

Bobby’s smile faltered and then gave way to a frown. “Why didn’t you say? Didn’t you…didn’t you trust me?”

"It’s not like that,” Minho said. “We’re so used to keeping it a secret it just…not even Yoon or Jinwoo know.”

“But Yoon’s your leader,” Bobby said, then tilted his head to the side. “Do Taehyun and Hoony know?”

Minho winced and groaned as he flopped back into the futon. “More than that.”

He opened up a group chat then of everyone he’d been with up until then and asked one simple question.

 _Minho_ : _Is everyone cool if I tell Bobby about you all?_

Bobby watched with wide eyes as Minho’s phone blew up with affirmatives and finally an eggplant, water splatter, and tongue emoji set from Jiho. Minho passed the phone over to him and let him scroll through it.

“Jinhwan…Hoony, Taehyun, Jimin, Namjoon…holy shit,” Bobby breathed.

“I like sleeping with people,” Minho said, covering his face as a blush swamped up his neck and into his cheeks. “And Jiho likes me sleeping with other people. The general rule is no one talks about it to anyone else, but everyone gets to know everyone else who’s….been with me.”

“It’s like a club. A People Who Fuck Song Minho Club,” Bobby said, somewhat awed.

Minho burst into laughter, his shame and worry dissolving in the face of Bobby’s words. “Oh my God.”

Bobby cackled in response with that wide smile that always made Minho’s heart pound just a little bit faster as he clutched at his own stomach. “Tell me I’m wrong!”

Minho shook his head, knowing it was true. “Sorry I hid it all from you.”

"It’s okay, I get it. With that many people involved, it’s not for you to say,” Bobby said, reaching out and squeezing Minho’s knee. “Are you dating all of them?”

“No. Actually I haven’t slept with Jinhwan outside the one time,” Minho said. “Taehyun called it off entirely, and Jimin and Namjoon were both a one-time thing too. Hoony and I still mess around here and there when we’re bored or just want to not be alone for a little while. Jiho’s…Jiho’s the one I'm in love with.”

“That makes sense,” Bobby said with a nod. “I’d say I’m happy for you but clearly you’re going through it right now.”

Minho covered his face again. “Please ignore my thirst lyrics, I’ll be okay.”

When he glanced back over, Bobby was texting on his phone and he reached over but Bobby just leaned away and finished typing out his message before tossing the phone across the futon and getting to his feet.

“Talk to you later,” Bobby said with his usual smile.

Minho picked his phone up from where it landed and went to the chat he had with Jiho.

_Minho: Hey, it’s Bobby. Mind if I ask Minho to sit on my dick later?_

_Jiho: Fuck yeah, just promise I get to join next time I’m around_

_Minho: -tongue emoji- -eggplant emoji-_

“Oh fuck,” Minho breathed.

He got off on the futon to the thought of having them both.

A week later, the MOBB project got a greenlight so he and Bobby ended up spending hours in the studio together and Bobby didn’t hesitate to flirt and touch him, working him up with little touches and the occasional inappropriate movement of his tongue in his cheek as they sorted out tracks. On more than one occasion, he sat in Minho’s lap while he worked. He’d shift with a nonchalant yawn and make sure Minho was hard before insisting he was hungry and getting up to go order food.

Minho complained to Jiho about being teased. Jiho just said now he understood how everyone else felt.

It wasn’t until he was doing the first recording of Body that things changed. He’d come out of the booth, wiping the sweat from his brow and not so subtly adjusting his half hard dick in his jeans because he’d definitely been thinking about Jiho the whole time. Bobby looked at him but there was no smile on his face, just an intense look that had become all too familiar to Minho.

Bobby moved quick, up from the chair and crossing the room and pressing Minho against the booth door as he pressed their lips together. It was some of the most chaotic sex Minho ever had. The weeks working together, teasing each other, riling each other up with no resolution, resulted in them barely being able to control themselves as they pulled at each other’s clothes, scattering buttons and tearing seams as they kissed. Bobby’s hand caught the lock on the main studio door as they stumbled back towards the futon, ensuring their privacy.

Then Minho pushed him down and straddled his lap, cupping Bobby’s face in his hands and pressing their lips together in an open and wet kiss, tongues sliding together as they ground together. Minho bit at his lower lip, drinking in the sound of Bobby’s gasp and the way it made his gut swoop low.

And then his phone began to ring.

Both of them jerked apart and Minho swallowed, taking in the sight of Bobby’s bare chest in the dim studio lights and the way sweat dripped down his collarbone. The phone rang again and he pulled it out of his pocket, answering without looking.

“Hey baby,” Jiho crooned. “I’m gonna need you to open the studio door. I tried knocking.”

Minho hung up and lurched up to his feet, stumbling to the door and yanking it open as soon as he got the lock undone. Jiho slipped inside and shut the door behind him, re-locking it as he took in the state of the studio with that filthy grin of his that made Minho feel like his knees were gonna give out.

“Don’t stop on account of me,” he said. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Minho’s lips before pushing him back towards the futon. “I’m tired but I wouldn’t mind a show.”

Minho glanced at Bobby but Bobby just nodded and began undoing the fly of his pants. Minho did the same so by the time he rejoined him on the futon, they were both completely naked, skin sliding against skin as he stretched out over Bobby’s form and pressed their lips back together. A moment later, the thick bass of the Full House back track began to pulse through the studio speakers. They both turned to look at Jiho who was reclined in the studio chair, legs splayed wide as he grabbed at his cock through his jeans and crooked an eyebrow at them.

That was all the encouragement they needed. Jiho passed them the lube Minho kept stashed in his desk and Bobby opened him up quick and efficient, almost like he’d done it before.

“That’s because I have,” Bobby said as he sat up on the futon directly across from Jiho.

Minho straddled him so his back was against Bobby’s chest so they could both look at Jiho. “Who?”

Bobby grabbed his hips and pulled him down on his dick, slow and steady. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

Minho moaned as his ass came down to rest fully in Bobby’s lap, his cock filling him up deeper than any of his previous partners. He didn’t really care who Bobby had fucked before him. He stretched one arm back, hooking it around Bobby’s neck as he began to roll his hips, thighs trembling from the effort as he met Jiho’s heavy gaze. Bobby thrust into him at a slow pace and before long, they were able to sink into the beat of their back track, grinding and rolling together as Jiho leaned back and unzipped his pants.

He was wearing one of Minho’s plain hoodies that he pushed up a bit as he got his cock out and began to give it a few lazy strokes. Bobby groaned out Jiho’s name against Minho’s shoulder and he couldn’t help but echo the sentiment, fingers twisting through Bobby’s hair as he rocked in his lap.

“Lucky me, two sweet boys putting on a show just for me,” Jiho said, voice low and rough from sleep and airplane air. “How does he feel, Minho?”

“So good,” Minho said, dropping his head back against Bobby’s shoulder and then mouthing at his jaw. “So fucking deep…”

Bobby bit at his neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough for Minho to feel it. He shivered, legs giving out so he went limp in Bobby’s arms. Jiho laughed and Bobby grunted before taking a hold of Minho’s hips and holding him up with an ease that makes Minho’s gut clench in arousal. He thrust up hard then, pounding into him, and Minho covered his own mouth because not even the music could cover the sound of his desperate moans and gasps.

“Look at Jiho,” Bobby ordered in his ear. “Look at him while he watches me fuck you so hard you can’t help but scream my name.”

“Holy shit, Bobby...fuck!” Minho dropped his hand, gasping as he stared into Jiho’s eyes. He could see Jiho pumping his cock faster as he watched and knowing that Jiho found him attractive like this, liked to watch him get fucked, sent him hurtling over the edge with no warning.

Bobby caught him with an arm before he could flop forward, hauling him back and curling his fingers around Minho’s throat in a loose grasp as he continued to drive up into him. Minho struggled to keep his eyes open as Jiho got to his feet, kicking the chair back and stepping close. He came with a harsh curse, hot come splattering over Minho’s softening dick, before he leaned forward and kissed Minho hard, tongue fucking into his mouth once, twice, and then he pulled away to give Bobby the same treatment.

The moment his lips touched Bobby’s, Bobby groaned and yanked Minho down hard on his cock as he came. Minho turned his head, watching with a dazed smile as Jiho and Bobby continued to kiss, gasping into one another’s mouths as they rode out the aftershocks of their orgasms together. It was…honestly hot as hell. He could finally see the appeal from Jiho’s perspective. Seeing Jiho kiss Bobby was like something out of a dream.

Jiho pulled back and then looked over at Minho, giving him a slow and sleepy smile. “Good job, babe. This was a hell of a welcoming party.”

Bobby snorted. “You two are so weird.”

“The three of us fucked a lot during that whole album creation and release,” Minho says. “Jiho and Bobby have good chemistry. I’d be jealous if the situation were different, to be honest, but hey I lucked out, I get them both.”

“What about Block B? Did you ever get with any of them?” Yoon asks, fingers walking their way down Minho’s spine.

Minho shakes his head. “No. I never had much interest outside Jihoon, but Jihoon wasn’t interested, and Jiho said he wanted to keep Block B separate from everything with me. Which makes sense in hindsight. I think he knew by then that he wasn’t going to stay. He always wanted to do more than you or me or really anyone else in Block B.”

“He’s ambitious,” Yoon says. “But he didn’t keep you separate from Hyuk and Hyoseob.”

“Block B was going to be his past and Fanxy Child was his future,” Minho says. “And no matter how much changed, I was going to be in his future. I think that’s why.”

“You seem to have great insight into Jiho’s head,” Yoon says with a small laugh.

Minho shrugs and closes his eyes. “Yeah, it goes both ways.”

Jiho had been able to see how attracted he was to Hyuk and Hyoseob within seconds of Minho walking into studio with an armful of food. He hadn’t ever met Hyuk or Hyoseob, only seen them in pictures. It didn’t prepare him for the reality.

Both men were gorgeous in different ways, but that wasn’t what it was that Minho found so attractive. It was the way they were so casual with Jiho. Hyoseob had no issue sitting in Jiho’s lap while Hyuk fed them both from a chair next to Jiho while Jiho continued to mix and play around with different beats and sounds. Minho watched from the couch, a strange warm feeling filling his chest as he watched the way Jiho softened at a teasing nudge of noodles and chopsticks at his lips.

It wasn’t like the way he was around his other friends. Then, Jiho was hard and domineering, ordering people around like it was easy as breathing. This Jiho was like the Jiho Minho had in private, the Jiho that smiled easily and blushed and leaned into any touch he was given like he was starved for it. Hyoseob and Hyuk left once the food was gone, thanking Minho with quick bows and words before leaving. Once they were gone, Minho got to his feet and tugged Jiho out of the chair.

“Enough work,” he said. “I missed you. And I want to talk to you about what I just saw.”

Jiho frowned and joined him on the couch, stretching out and resting his head in Minho’s lap. Minho slipped his fingers into his newly bleached hair, running a thumb along the wrinkles in his brow to smooth them out until Jiho gave in and stopped frowning.

“What did you just see?”

“You being…yourself,” Minho said. “I’m not used to seeing it around anyone but myself. You must really like them.”

Jiho nodded. “Yeah, I do. They…get me. They get what I’m trying to do.”

“Start your own label?”

"That obvious?” Jiho asked with a wry twist of his lips.

“Only to the people who know you best,” Minho said. “You deserve to be able to be yourself around someone other than me.”

“I learned it from you,” Jiho said, reaching up and brushing his fingers along Minho’s jaw. “You’ve never hid anything. You just let people in so effortlessly, let them see you at your most vulnerable and scared and I wish I could do that. I want to be able to do that.”

Minho swallowed, throat suddenly tight with tears. He had no problem expressing his love and the ways Jiho’s presence in his life had changed everything for him time and time again. But Jiho did. Minho knew he loved him, knew he was as important to Jiho as Jiho was to him. But it wasn’t often that Jiho was able to articulate it in such a way.

Jiho leaned up and pressed their lips together in a soft kiss and in so many ways it felt like that first kiss when they’d been so scared of what it meant for them both.

“I want to be better for you,” Jiho whispered against his lips. “I want to be someone you can be proud of.”

“You already are,” Minho said. “I promise.”

But Jiho shook his head and wiped away the tears that had started to fall from Minho’s eyes. “I don’t know how to be vulnerable like this. Like you.”

“I can teach you,” Minho said. “However you need.”

It was Hyoseob that Jiho picked. Jiho knew he would be open to it and in the end, he got the two of them in touch to discuss how they could help Jiho learn how to be vulnerable with them in the most intimate of ways. For Minho, it was eye-opening to speak with someone who clearly cared for Jiho on such a deep level, and a relief too. He wanted Jiho to be surrounded by people he could trust not to hurt him.

“Could he really not trust people in Block B?” Yoon asks.

“It was different than us,” Minho says, pushing himself up into a sitting position, sheets pooling around his lap. “He had to carry them through a lawsuit, keep them together and produce their music, work their PR and their interviews more than most leaders had to. It’s not that he doesn’t trust them, it’s that he had to be this larger than life authority figure to them. It changed the dynamic.”

“But Hyoseob was different because they were equals, not bandmates,” Yoon says.

Minho nods. “Exactly.”

“You know,” Yoon says with a smile. “You can’t teach people everything through sex.”

Minho flushes and almost covers up his face again. “I know. But with that it was…Jiho always had issues with the concept of bottoming. I never really let the toxic shit about being a man cling to me the way it does to most people, so I think for him that act symbolized so much more than just sex. So that’s why.”

“If it was so special, shouldn’t it have just been with you?” Yoon asks.

“Maybe if we were different,” Minho says. “But he wanted me there as…a protector. He trusted Hyoseob but he needed me there.”

And he had been there. They did it at Hyoseob’s place, in a ridiculously luxurious bed with dim lamp lights bathing the room in a deep orange glow. He and Hyoseob had stripped Jiho of his clothing and then their own with careful and gentle touches, trading kisses with him, slow and wet, back and forth, not letting him get too worked up. They settled into the bed with Minho on his side with Jiho pressed to his front and Hyoseob behind him.

Hyoseob kissed Jiho’s shoulder as he slid a hand down his side and Minho watched as Jiho’s skin shivered and jumped with every caress until Hyoseob’s hand wrapped firm around the back of his thigh and slung it over Minho’s hip. Minho kissed him to distract him from the click of the lube opening and the sound of Hyoseob slicking up his fingers. Jiho swore and bit at Minho’s lip at the first touch against his entrance, jerking into Minho’s front and clinging to his shoulder.

“Easy,” Hyoseob whispered, rubbing his nose up and down the back of Jiho’s neck. “Just relax, babe.”

And Minho watched as Jiho’s eyes widened, pupils dilating and mouth dropping open, at the lovingly said term of endearment. He let out a soft gasp as Hyoseob sank the first finger in, keeping each movement slow and gentle as he let Jiho get used to it while Minho kissed him over and over.

“You’re doing so well,” Minho said between kisses. “It’s going to feel so good, I promise.”

Hyoseob peppered his own kisses along Jiho’s neck, working his way up slowly to two fingers and then twisting his wrist to hook them against Jiho’s prostate. Minho could tell when he got it from the way Jiho spasmed in his arms again and bit at his neck, muffling a whine even as his hips ground up against Minho’s, pressing their cocks together. Hyoseob grinned and Minho couldn’t help but lean over Jiho’s shoulder and kiss him, soft, in thanks.

“More, Hyoseob, please,” Jiho whispered, voice barely audible.

Hyoseob kissed the knob where Jiho’s neck met his spine. “Good job, babe, thank you for asking.”

It wasn’t until Jiho was letting out soft moans and gasps against Minho’s neck without stopping that Hyoseob pulled his fingers out and reached for the lube to slick up his cock. Just as he was lining himself up, Jiho suddenly went stiff in their arms. Hyoseob went still instantly, squeezing Jiho’s hip in reassurance before looking up to meet Minho’s eyes in question. Minho reached down to cup Jiho’s face in his hands, pressing their foreheads together so Jiho couldn’t even try to hide from him.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What if I hate it? Or I like it?”

“I sort of hope you like it,” Hyoseob said, and he could’ve said it as a joke but his voice was painfully serious.

“What are you afraid of?” Minho asked. “Liking it too much?”

“I can’t…if I like it too much I can’t control myself,” Jiho said in a rush, eyes closing.

“That’s why I’m here,” Minho said. “Jiho, look at me.” Jiho hesitated a moment before opening his eyes once more and Minho wished he could go back in time and ensure that Jiho never felt afraid of not being in control. “I’m in control. Nothing is going to happen that you don’t want to. You trust me and Hyoseob, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Jiho said without hesitation.

“Do you want Hyoseob to fuck you?” Minho asked.

Jiho swallowed and then nodded. “Yes. I want him to fuck me.”

“Hyoseob, lean against the headboard,” Minho said.

Hyoseob obeyed, propping himself up against a few pillows and waiting patiently as Minho helped Jiho into his lap. Minho got behind him, hands loose but steady on Jiho’s hips as he guided him into position and Jiho leaned forward to brace himself on. Hyoseob’s shoulders.

“You’re in control,” Minho said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

The change in position seemed to help. Jiho rubbed himself along Hyoseob for a moment before finally easing himself down, mouth dropping open even as no sound emerged. Minho shifted to sit beside Hyoseob, watching as Jiho shifted forward and pressed his lips desperately to Hyoseob’s gasping and _whimpering_ as he began to move, rolling his hips as he got a feel for what he liked.

Minho could tell Jiho didn’t just like it – he loved it. He pulled away from Hyoseob, head drooping as he lost himself in the feeling, fingers clenching and releasing where they gripped Hyoseob’s shoulders as he moved.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful,” Hyoseob whispered. “Jesus Christ, Jiho…”

Jiho looked up, eyes wide with surprise and entirely unable to articulate his thoughts. Minho wondered if this was what he looked like when lost in the throes of pleasure and praise and love. If he looked even half as gorgeous as Jiho did…

“Minho?” Jiho’s voice cracked as his gaze flicked over to Minho. “I…”

Minho smiled, knowing exactly what he was feeling. “Feels good, huh? You like feeling Hyoseob in you?”

Jiho nodded like a bobblehead, tears welling up in his eyes but he didn’t cry like Minho did. Instead, the tears clung to his lashes, stubborn. Hyoseob shifted, thumbs tracing over his eyes to knock the tears away before kissing him again, swallowing down Jiho’s noises of desperation and pleasure as he worked his hips. Minho reached down to stroke his cock. He only managed two strokes before Jiho’s back arched and he splattered his and Hyoseob’s stomach with come as he shuddered and gasped out both of their names with a sob.

Both he and Hyoseob were quick to help pull him off, neither wanting to run the chance of overwhelming him with too many sensations. Jiho flopped into Minho’s arms with a rough exhale. A moment later, he reached out with one hand to squeeze Hyoseob’s thigh and then slid his hand up to curl it around his cock.

“You don’t have to,” Hyoseob said.

“Want to,” Jiho said, almost petulant.

Hyoseob and Minho smiled at each other and shifted to make it easier for Jiho to jack him off, though more than once Minho or Hyoseob had to reach down to help him tighten his grip. Hyoseob came with a quiet grunt before deflating back into his nest of pillows.

“Thank you,” Jiho murmured. “That…thank you.”

“He bottoms for me on occasion now, but mostly with Hyoseob,” Minho says. “I don’t really care for topping anymore but I don’t mind it if that’s what he’s in the mood for.”

“And it doesn’t bother you?”

Minho shakes his head. “No. Because at the end of the day I’m still the one he comes home to. That’s all that matters.”

Yoon sits up, reaching out to hold Minho’s hands in his own. “Thank you for trusting me with all this. I know you didn’t have to answer but I appreciate that you did. I’m glad I’m finally in the club.”

Minho grins, a small laugh escaping him. “The People Who Fucked Song Minho Club…”

“I don’t think it’s that,” Yoon says.

“No?”

Yoon flushes, going bashful and shy the way that makes Minho want to cover his face in kisses. “No. I think it’s The People Who Love Song Minho Club.”

Minho stares at him, heart pounding. “Yoon…I…thank you for saying that.”

His phone buzzes and he leans over Yoon to grab it off the night stand, smiling when he sees a message from Jiho.

_Jiho: Just landed. Give Yoon a kiss for me -heart eyes emoji-_

Minho smiles and does just that.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at the same username


End file.
